The World Dreams with You
by Ayoshen
Summary: A direct sequel to It's a Whimsical World, describing Week 2. Cadley. Once again, Allison and Remy must struggle for survival in the Underground... together.
1. W2D1 Forgive Your Partner

**Author's Important Note:** This is a direct (as in, "a few hours later") sequel to my previous fic, It's a Whimsical World. Do not even attempt to read this unless you've successfully finished the former, lest you be very, very confused. (I pretty much only divided them into two because it seemed appropriate and the file on my computer was growing unhealthily huge.)

Again, the name is a play on the name of the game. (The World Ends = Dreams with You, see? Lame, I know. It is also known as "It's a Wonderful World" in Japan, hence the first part of this series. YAY REFERENCES.)

Now where was I… oh yes, week two. I promise I'm not going to be a [n unresolved sexual] tension bleep much longer. ;)

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><p><strong>Week 2, Day 1: Forgive Your Partner<strong>

A snowflake's journey begins much higher than any of us 'superior beings' will ever reach, safe for a few famous exceptions. A thing without soul or mind of its own can still travel a longer distance than many people; from the endless white fogs slowly drifting down through the atmosphere, probably changing its shape here and there. An unthinkable distance traveled in a surprisingly short period of time while the people below spend their days trying to get from point A to point B and vice versa, even though while reaching the goal is important, it's always better to remember that it's the journey that matters, what you learn and how you live during that time; because after all, there will always be another goal to reach when you've achieved what you wanted, and another journey to undertake – just like the journey of a tiny star of ice back to the heavens. And so a little snowflake is able to see much more than people ever will. Lower and lower it floats until it reaches the highest tin roofs, the highest windows giving curious children the opportunity to rejoice at the sight of first snow; it keeps falling to floor number eight, seven, six, past the chinking church bell and the welcome sign above a jewellery until it settles on the shoulder of an unsuspecting stranger and vanishes as quickly as it appeared, dying the jacket of Allison Cameron a slightly darker shade of brown.

_Why?_ That was the first word of about a million and three hundred thousand questions Cameron had. Why did this happen, why did this one do that, why did she fall for it, why did Remy leave her? Of all the people she had ever helped, be it by nursing them to health or simply showing concern, not many of them had been suffering from similar anguish, abandoned by the only – and most precious – ones they had in a foreign, malevolent world where every minute literally hurt to live through, as the pain in her palm kept reminding her. During those few rare moments her mind wasn't occupied by any of the countless 'why' questions, there were many more beginning with the word 'if', usually followed by a first person singular pronoun. If I had seen through their lies, if I hadn't been so naïve, if I had listened to what she had to say. But when she got to the 'then' part of the sentence, she couldn't form a reasonable excuse for the guilt to linger. If she had done all those things, then what? At best, Remy would have killed her. At worst, it would be the other way around. There was ultimately nothing she could have done to prevent this disappointing turn of events and yet she was tormented by her own conscience.

Maybe she shouldn't have said all those seemingly meaningful things.

She could feel the back of the pine tree digging into her back, and although she could have gotten rid of this uncomfortable sensation simply by lying down in the snow, she cared no more. She stared into nothingness without even knowing what she was hoping to find.

"So what kind of Player are you if you're not even looking for a Partner? The clock is ticking, you know," pointed out the nosy, high-pitched voice that had been nagging her for the past few minutes.

"A blind one," she responded nonchalantly.

"Oh. Uh, yeah, good luck with that." There was the sound of footsteps running off, and then silence fell upon the field.

"You shouldn't have done that."

The high-pitched voice turned into a scream accopanied by a crack of thunder.

"Here. She stole your psych pins. How did you not notice?"

Cameron wasn't sure at first, but from up close, there was no doubt whom this new voice belonged to, and she lifted her head with newfound hope. "Remy?"

"Yes—I'm right in front of you." Worry was evident in Thirteen's voice. Shocking realization crossed her features, though Cameron could only tell by the horrified whisper that followed. "You can't see." The blonde could feel the tender touch as a hand cupped her cheek. "What have they done to you?"

_To me? What have they done to all of us,_ Cameron mused. "It was the lilies." _They say that when a person sees someone they may never see again, spider lilies will sprout._ She could hear her own voice breaking and thought she would start crying in the nearest future possible. How could she even know this person was truly Remy? It could just as easily have been Joshua or some other Reaper using the voice she realied on to lure her away, into a trap. Then again, why would they? There was no will or determination left in her anyway. She was helpless, alone in the merciless dark.

A while of cold silence and a deep sigh later, the voice continued. "I can't leave you here like this. Forge a pact with me. There's only a few minutes left."

"But you're one of them…"

"They didn't fulfill their end of the bargain, so why should I?" She paused for a while, contemplating the best way to keep her thoughts in order. There was so much she wanted to say and explain and all of it strived to be said first; safe for one thing that begged a little louder than the others. "I'm so sorry, Allison. I should have listened to you. I should have been more patient. I thought they would let us both live and I was obviously terribly wrong. I hereby renounce my 'Reaperhood'. Let's just get us back home in one piece, okay?"

"Aren't you scared of… of going back?" Allison whispered, hinting at the other woman's condition.

She got a throaty, humorless chuckle in return. "Being here isn't any better. I have to kill Players to score points that will keep me alive."

"Oh. So how many have you killed so far?"

The brunette gulped down a lump in her throat. "That girl back there was my third. It's enough to hold me for the week," she mumbled.

"Remy—"

"I know, I know, it's not right, I'm not proud of it and I will never do it again. Can we _please_ move on? You don't have much time and I'm taking you with me, whether you appreciate the company of a murderer or not."

"You're not—"

"Allison!" Thirteen interrupted. Cameron couldn't see it, but the clock now indicated a particularly life-threatening situation was upon them. _0:01_.

She could, however, tell that this was no time for fighting. "Fine!"

Thirteen dropped one of the two Player pins she was holding into Cameron's hand and closed her fingers around it hesitantly, so that the two two-dimensional white skulls were pressed together between them. The blonde winced a little at the cold touch of the steel and then slowly, tentatively followed her partner's example, tightening the grip and joining their hands into one.

Blue light immediately seeped through the almost nonexistent space around the pins and soon began to take shape, but it wasn't snakes this time. Two glowing strings crawled to each side of an imaginary circle, twisting and curling along the way, and then rose up, limb after limb, assembling what looked like a living creature like a puzzle. Formerly a strange liquidy cloud of cyan then became clearer and sharper and allowed Thirteen to recognize the posture of a wolf.

Everything behind a few feet's distance began to fade away. The wolves ran in circles around the two, howling and barking as they greeted the new champions. Remy wished Cameron could see it; she froze on her knees and watched the scene in awe and with a little apprehension too. "They're beautiful," she whispered, the corners of her open mouth turned slightly upwards. She didn't even realize her wings had disappeared.

The blonde closed her eyes and smiled in spite of the circumstances. She thought she could actually _see_ her vision flicker in blue at times. The howls marked a new beginning that was sealed by the warmth of Remy's hand holding her own. Whether they stood or fell, it didn't matter, as long as they went together.

The wolves were still dancing when she spoke. "You're not a murderer."

"You're right. I killed three people. I'm basically a serial killer by now."

"They attacked you…"

"No, they didn't. It was my own decision to kill them."

"Technically, you can't kill what was never alive in the first place…"

"Please."

Cameron was sure that if her vision miraculously returned at that point, the first thing she'd see would be Thirteen rolling her eyes at her. She was trying her best to deny Remy had anything to do with crime, but she was steadily running out of excuses. This went against everything she had ever stood for. Normally, she would never side with a killer. Much to the contrary, she'd treat them like garbage because they would clearly deserve it; but this was Remy. This was the friend that had stood by her when no one else could have. "But why?"

"I didn't think it would matter, okay? I didn't think I'd ever see you or anyone else again!" Thirteen snapped and yanked her hand out of Cameron's grip. There was a loud thud as she punched the ground and the snow melted against her skin.

"It mattered to _them_…" the blonde whispered softly. She knew she couldn't see, but now she was certain her lacrimal glands weren't damaged in any way. The howling stopped and the glowing quadrupeds ran off their separate ways.

"Well now you see that I'm not perfect. I'm merely human and I'll do what I can to survive. Wake up and smell the dandelions, it's the real world calling out to you!"

"So you think you were in right?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you think so."

"You don't know _shit _about what I _think!_" Remy ran a hand through her hair when she saw Cameron jump at her outburst. She didn't want to startle her, but why did it have to be so complicated? She had had no choice, had she? "It's still me. It's just a little more 'me' than what you knew before. And the deeper you go, the worse it's gonna get."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're a good person. You shouldn't be wasting your energy on someone of my level."

Cameron could feel fatigue rapidly draining her of all power. The day was over, whether they liked it or not. There was no time for chitchat. She hoped at least one last sentence would get across, but her eyes closed before she even had a chance to finish. "You don't understand – I've already—"

She registered the sound of snow cracking under Remy's hands and then her whole body. That was the last thing she knew. Sleep… all conscious thoughts were redirected to the many meanings of sleep.

_…decided._

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><p><em>"There is a significantly higher number of Players this week."<em>

_ "Strange, I thought the new addition to your team would help you solve this issue…"_

_ "She renounced her position."_

"_This soon?"_

"_Don't try to make a fool of me. You knew very well it was going to happen as soon as she scented the other; that's why you let her join, so you could ultimately save them both."_

_ "Just like you tried to erase them both. I'm only playing it fair."_

_ "Bishop to H4. Check."_

_ "Pawn to G3."_

_ "That's all you can do. Defend. Knight to C3."_

_ "You are too reckless to ever deliver the mate, anyway. Rook to C5 and check. See? Just like the pieces I will soon take it all."_

_ "Why are you doing this? It serves no purpose and won't earn you any personal gain."_

_ "I'm screwing with you, of course. The fun is my personal gain."_

_ "Just take the damn knight."_

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><p><strong>Author's Note of Randomness:<strong> _WE HAVE TO GO DEEPER._ - Sorry, it was too hard to resist once I wrote it. (If you don't get it, just go on, there's nothing to see here.) I apologize for the shameless shortness of this chapter. I don't know what's wrong with me. :(


	2. W2D2 Start Over with Your Partner

**A/N: **This chapter is completely and utterly insane. You have been warned. I've just had this idea lying in my head forever and I couldn't... there was no way for me to resist it any longer. ;_;**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Week 2, Day 2: Start Over with Your Partner<strong>

Thirteen knew she was a murderer. She also knew that leaving Allison all by herself in the park was not going to get her karma any plus points. However, she couldn't help herself. She needed to get as far away as possible while also remaining as close as possible for when Cameron started looking for her, so she wound up wandering through the streets around. The morning was still young and fresh with the first rays of dim sunlight peeking from behind the horizon and birds chirping, heard but unseen.

Now that Cameron was alive again, albeit in a slightly messed up state, there was no excuse. After just a day of immortality, all of a sudden she was back where it all started, having her conscience returned to her and guilt spelled all over it in multiple languages; all for Allison. The words _love and other disasters_ came to mind and she quickly shook them off. Thirteen had – despite the nickname suggesting she was a robot sent from outer space – considered herself human prior to the series of unfortunate events that had taken place. She was way too quick to learn that being a demigod takes that away from you in the blink of an eye. She was even more disgruntled to realize that what bothered her most was not the act itself, but rather Allison's opinion on her as of now. The only thing she could do in her search for redemption was to ensure Cameron got back safe and she would deal with the rest later. Or, you know, never sounded just fine, too.

Eventually she found her way back to the Community Park, returning from the north, when an icy voice interrupted her thoughts. "That was fast."

Remy spun around to see a Reaper wearing one of those signature red hoodies leaning casually against a tree with no clue as to how he got there. "Go away. I'm not in the mood to play," she shot back and resumed walking.

"Hey! I don't even get a half-hearted 'sorry' from you? It's not exactly nice to have your partner disappear on you, you know."

"Yeah, tell me about it," she mumbled without stopping. Judging by the soft thuds of footsteps behind her, Thirteen could tell this unwanted visitor was not too keen on taking a hint.

"Aw, come on. You gotta stop being all angsty emo about it, Rem! We're still good in our own _special_ way. Doesn't exactly go by the Bible but then again, what does?"

Thirteen let out an exasperated sigh as her legs somehow stopped moving on their own accord. "How is taking people's souls good in _any_ way? And stop calling me Rem. It's Thirteen."

"Thirteen Schmirteen," the Reaper mocked in a sing-song voice. "Learn to enjoy your shit already! We were all goody two-shoes before coming here. Now we just have a new way of expressing it. Of course you wouldn't know that since you decided to bail and hightail it out of our first fight." He received an unmistakeable 'you're an idiot' glare in return. "You don't get it. It's not like we're taking anything from them. Those people are already dead and it only makes sense that not all of them can get back. Natural selection, woman! What kinda mess would the world become if it weren't for us? When you think about it, our job is actually essential. Psych pins are directly dependent on a Player's imagination. The greater the power, the greater the imagination, and the greater the imagination, the more inspiring can a person be once they return."

"Yeah, well I still think you shouldn't make promises you can't keep in the first place."

"How else are we going to find out who deserves the spot? Then, a few people get to have a second chance at life, and the rest will earn a kickass experience, probably a better adventure than what they've ever had in life! I sure am enjoying myself," said the Reaper with a grin that drew all attention to itself since the rest of his face was mostly hidden in shadow. To better illustrate his point, the man raised his hand and a ball of violet fire kindled above his palm. He marveled at the sphere and started throwing it in his hands like an ordinary tennis ball, which earned him and amused smile and a raised eyebrow from Thirteen.

"As entertaining as destroying things in thousands of possible ways is, my _adventures_ –" Remy's lips curved into an impish jeer at the memory of her late night escapades and various bets she used to make with her roommates or coworkers, some of which included rather challenging word formations such as 'confession booth', 'graveyard at night' or 'the Mile High Club', "–certainly top that. Besides, mine is bigger than yours," she added and conjured up her own neon blue fiery sphere the size of a medicine ball.

"Hey, no fair!" The man then began to chase her around the park, apparently trying to compete in whose flame burnt brighter. He even managed to elicit a smile from the brunette. Remy lit up as she ran around giggling like a child playing an innocent post mortem game of tag. All was going well until she tripped and fell face down into the snow while the Reaper stood above her, laughing. He offered to help her stand up and when she did, took off his hood and looked her in the eye. "Seriously now. You have to go back where you belong. C'mon. I missed ya and I really don't wanna end up assigned to Mr. Grumpy Face. Aren't I fun?" Remy stood motionless and stared right through the man. When there was no response, he frowned. "Rem?"

"You're right. I have to go where I belong." With that, Thirteen shed her skin once again and took off the opposite direction.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Back to my partner!"

_ "I am your partner!"_

"Sorry!"

_Well, at least I finally got that out of Her Petulancy_, the Reaper thought and shook his head with a sigh, but he wasn't mad, no; Rem's place was somewhere else. He could live with that, in a very dead way. He waved his hand and retreated into the shadows with a smile on his face and the hood set firmly atop his head. _Game on._

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><p>A mere few minutes of running out of breath, Thirteen could hear Cameron's voice in her mind. If it was supposed to sound worried, the emotion got lost somewhere in the process of conveying the message as the softness of the voice only indicated tranquility, or was it acceptance?<p>

_Where are you, Remy?_

The internist cursed herself under her breath. Cameron sounded as if she weren't expecting to find her at all. Clutching the black pin to her chest, she hoped the blonde had just awoken.

_I'm on my way._

_"Mission 2: You should first learn to live _with_ yourself before living _as_ yourself. Stay together. You have 8 hours. Fail, and face erasure. – The Reapers"_

When Remy returned to their original "spawn point" in the park still pondering the peculiar message, she was shocked to see that Cameron was not there. The brunette looked about, but her partner was nowhere to be found. "Allison?" To her surprise, she couldn't hear herself call out her name. Instead she heard a loud howl from somewhere frighteningly close. Thirteen jumped and looked around, prepared to erase any potential wolf Noise, but there was no one there except for the snow, trees and a bunch of passersby glancing half-heartedly in her direction before casually returning to their conversations.

"Allison!" Again, a howl echoed in her ears. Then she noticed the beige cat watching her intently from under the tree where Cameron had been sleeping when she left her. Upon closer inspection, Remy saw that the cat's eyes were blank and void, staring right through her as if she were nothing but air. _That's strange…_ Just then, Cameron's thoughts projected themselves into her mind.

_Remy? What's taking you so long? I know it doesn't make sense, but I think there's a wolf nearby and it's kind of scary…_

_What are you talking about? I'm right where I left you. Where are you?_

Then it dawned on her.

_Call me._

"Meow!"

That was all the confirmation Remy needed. _The wolf is me. You just meowed. You're a cat._

_What? Don't be ridiculous. How would I not notice dropping to all fours and growing fur? Besides it being, you know, impossible?_

_Allison, listen to yourself. You _mewl_. And there's a blind cat sitting right in front of me. Coincidence? Nuh-uh._

"Meow!" _Oh god, you're right! So that's what they meant by…_

_Yep, that's what they meant. Steal our lives, steal our appearances, what are they gonna do next? Steal one of our legs? Besides, I think people can see us._

_What makes you say so?_

_It might be the fact that right now there's a bunch of cops running this way with nets and chains and guns filled with what I assume are anesthetics. Don't freak out, but we gotta bail._

_What do you mean freak out? OW!_

Cameron, now imprisoned in a cat's body, yelped as she felt huge jaws lightly squeeze her ribcage. With Allison in her maw, Remy took off into the forest at the speed of a hungry cheetah chasing its prey. Needles wheezed by them, along with a few warning bullets. Thirteen expertly maneuvered her way between the trees.

_Please don't bite down, please don't bite down..._

_ Cameron, my species may have changed, but I know better than to eat my partner, unless you don't stop distracting me._

* * *

><p><em>I think we shook them off,<em> Thirteen announced in her mind as she slowed down and stopped a few minutes later. She laid the cat down on the snow. They were now fairly deep in the woods.

She barely had enough time to catch her breath before she heard the men advancing. "This way! Come on, boys, we cannot have a wolf running around the city!"

Or not. _Crap. I can't carry you much longer. I'm exhausted._

_Then go on without me. I'm small; I can hide._

_It's not you they're looking for. You climb up this tree while I lure them away. When they give up, I'll come back for you_, Thirteen proposed, nudging Cameron the kitten towards a tree.

_What? You're crazy! I can't climb! I can't even see where I'm going!_

_You're a cat for Pete's sake! Just do the cat thing, hurry! _She poked Allison again with her paw and watched as saidcat stood up on her hind legs and placed hers on the bark of a pine.

The cat tried running up the tree. It was going fine for a few seconds before she lost her balance and fell down into the snow, luckily feet first.

_Claws, Allison, claws!_

_Stop telling me how to do the cat thing! You canines can't possibly understand our ways._ She shook off the melting snowflakes, looking rather comical with a particularly persistent patch of snow stubbornly sticking to her cold nose.

_Mayhap, but I've always had the ability to _observe_ your ways, _Remy shot back cynically.

Carefully finding her direction again, Cameron jumped onto the tree and dug her claws into the bark. Her hind leg slipped, but she managed to hold on. In fact, it wasn't that hard. One paw replaced another and soon, she was several fair inches above ground level.

_Okay, you're doing good. Now, about one inch higher to the right, there's a branch,_ the wolf navigated, nervously pacing around the trunk. _Do you think you can get there?_

_Yeah, I think I'm getting the hang of this,_ Cameron replied and pulled herself higher in a swift motion. Then she warily waved her right paw in the air before hitting the branch. _Watch this,_ she dared and grabbed the branch with her front paws while letting go of the trunk completely. Remy's heart skipped a beat as she saw her morphed companion hanging in the air, but just as quickly, Allison drew herself up on the wooden limb of the tree.

_Showoff,_ Remy scoffed and growled under her breath. _They're close. I have to go. Just don't move. I'll be right back._

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><p>Cameron hadn't heard from her partner since their separation. She waited patiently and listened to the sounds of footsteps grazing the land and commands being given. She was scared; not for herself but for Remy. What if they caught her? Then all would go to waste.<p>

The men scouted around the area, meticulously examining every suspicious pile of snow. Unfortunately for Allison, one of them had the idea to look right up for some reason. "Hey, guys! There's a cat stuck on top of a tree. I think it's blind. Should we get it to safety?"

"Yeah, it doesn't look like the wolf's still here, anyway. We'll tell the townsfolk to be prepared to call us in case it shows up around here again. But I don't think it will; it must have traveled a long way to be messing with people. How did it even get here?" mused another of the men in blue suits aloud.

"I'll call some firemen so they bring ladders and get the poor thing down," said another.

Cameron did not anticipate this. _Um, I have a bit of a situation here. The good news is they won't be looking for you. The bad news is they think I'm a stray and want to 'rescue' me._

_Then let them._

_No, thanks, I don't want to go to the animal shelter to be picked up by some family with a five year old boy who's just figuring out the difference between a toy and a living thing! My ears are sensitive and they're going to pull my tail – NOT THE TAIL!_

_Relax. They'll probably take you to the vet first to make sure you're not sick and to give you the necessary vaccines,_ Remy said without realizing it was not exactly a good way to calm Allison down until it was too late.

_ WHAT? You mean there will be syringes? No, no, no, I don't want any vaccines, I am a perfectly vaccinated, healthy human being! That stuff could kill_ _me!_ The cat's furt bristled and it arched its back as much as possible but not enough to fall off the branch.

"Hey, looks like the kitty doesn't like us. She thinks we're a threat, poor thing."

"You bet I don't like you!" Cameron tried to exclaim, but the invaders could only hear sharp hisses and desperate mewling.

_Just be a good kitty. I'll find you,_ Thirteen said, trying to make her mental human voice sound as reassuring as possible.

_ You'd better be quick about it; I don't want to end up a pin cushion!_

* * *

><p>Thirteen waited for the sun to start setting and then exited her cover. Of course she knew it would have been foolish to simply run through the streets in this obviously visible form. Luckily, the office of the only veterinarian in the town was situated in the suburban area instead of the crowded center of Princeton. The weather was working in her favor as well, as a snowstorm had started, driving everyone into the nearest building furnished with a heater. Alright, well, not exactly in her favor. It was freezing and no matter how thick a wolf's coat might be, she would still give anything for a jacket and a nice warm cup of <em>give me my office in Diagnostics any day<em>. Mentally grumbling, Remy snuck through the obscure alleyways, occassionally startled by a rat rifling through garbage looking for that one hidden piece of cheese – Gee, Princeton could be creepy under the right circumstances. Being the night owl she was, however, Remy knew the city from head to toe. Down south, cross Mountain Ave, and right there in Henderson it was; one of many of Princeton's houses, except this one had 'Jack Miller, VMD' written above the white glass-filled door. She figured she should check the opening hours, but then she realized she had no idea what time or day it was. She also realized there was a stowaway on the inside for that purpose.

_ Hey, Allison, are you alone in there?_

_Yeah. They left a while ago, but first they had to tell the doc the whole story about a, quote, 'bigass lone Canis Lupus Lycaon' popping up in the middle of the park while I was getting my butt checked out _from the inside_. I am going to kill you._

It took Remy a good minute of gathering all her willpower not to burst out laughing – or, as she supposed, growling like a mad hyena. _I'll be right there. Don't worry; your ass is safe with me._

How was she going to get in? That was no easy puzzle to solve. There was a small window on ground level at the back of the house, but Remy was not exactly thrilled about the idea of running face-first into it. Instead she found a medium sized pebble, rolled it towards the window, and then, her aim perfect as ever, kicked the pebble in its direction. The stone hit with enough force to make several long cracks, but it wasn't enough, so Thirteen repeated the step and heard the stone roll across the linoleum floor. Satisfied with her accomplishment, she then squeezed through and followed it with a rather clumsy leap, landing on all fours with a thud.

What she hadn't thought of was the fact that the only source of light was the dimming sunlight shining through the window she just broke and it wasn't enough by far. That problem was quickly taken care of nonetheless as she soon found a switch on the wall and reared up to push it with her paws. The room lit up.

_Holy schmolas, this place looks like a dungeon,_ she thought when, with her line of sight drastically expanded, she saw cages of various sizes lined up along the walls and up to the ceiling. Some of them held one animal, some held up to four, and in rare cases there were no prisoners behind the bars. Some were stray cats, some were abandoned Yorkshire terriers, some were corny-colored budgies and there was even a chameleon in one of the cages – or at least Remy thought so, since five seconds later, it was gone. Most of the prison's inhabitants had one thing in common, though; almost all were asleep.

Remy looked around to see the all too familiar beige cat lying in a cage in the downmost row with its head resting peacefully on its front paws. It appeared sound asleep except for the swift motion of its triangular ears in the wolf's general direction. _Took you long enough, _Allison thought and opened her eyes lazily.

Thirteen hopped over to the cage and lowered her head to examine her feline companion through the bars. Cameron looked… like a cat who had seen better times. There was a thin bandage wrapped around her hind leg and the fur on her rear was ruffled in a few places, undoubtedly from an injection or two.

_Not. A. Word, Dr. Hadley._

_ Uhuh, so when you're angry with me, it's back to last name basis, Dr. Cameron?_ Remy said in her mind in a mocking voice. _You've got to admit this is pretty funny. Besides, I suppose it's the only time I get to see your butt, even if in it's not in an ideal state._ Whoops, she didn't mean to think that last part out loud.

_I wish I could share your _enthusiasm_, doctor._

_Hey, I had to break through a window to get to you! Now how do we get you out…_ the she-wolf mused. The old-fashioned steel lock still looked quite sturdy.

_ Why don't you just get the key? I think he leaves them somewhere in here. I heard a rattling noise when he locked me in and they left right after. It didn't sound like he was putti__ng it in his pocket or anything, more like he was hanging it…_

_Hmmm,_ pondered Remy. _Well I certainly don't suppose he has different keys for all these cages, so…_ Her eyes wandered the walls again. The iron hook holding the key stuck out like a black sheep in a herd. She propped herself up and snatched it with her fangs. _If I break my neck for this, needles in your butt won't be the worst of your problems._ Then she carefully slid the key into the lock. It took her a few tries, as wolves are not famous for their finesse in lockpicking, but with determination and more than enough curses, it finally clicked. _Got it. Now let's go!_

_Wait!_ Cameron said as she bumped into the door of the cage and let herself out. _We can't leave them here._

_What do you mean? They're animals, Allison. They belong here. Come on!_ Remy was already halfway across the room.

_You don't understand! I can talk to them. I spoke with that tabby cat up there, and the one over there. I listened to their stories and I told them mine. Their place isn't here. They're no different then us! We must get them out!_

_We don't have time to play PETA,_ the wolf replied with a hint of annoyance in her voice, already thinking of the best way to escape the city.

_I'm not leaving until they're free,_ the cat said and laid back down on the cold floor.

Remy growled. _Don't make me grab you by the fur on your back._

_You won't,_ Allison answered, not at all bothered by the mental image. She said those words with confidence that would make anyone believe the president signed under the statement, along with all the other past presidents, dead or alive.

If animals could roll their eyes, that was exactly what Remy would do. _Jesus, you're such a… cat! Argh. Alright, fine. Your wish is my command, _she muttered with only a slight hint of honesty.

The process could have taken hours even, but Remy knew better than to suggest leaving before the job was done again. Finally the place had changed into a big barking mess of hair and feathers and he who could jumped straight up on the boxes aligned next to the wall and through the window towards freedom, supervised by a golden cat with silvery eyes and a grey Canadian wolf at least four times its size.

_ I guess it's time,_ the cat said when the last remnants of sound faded away. _Please be careful. I think they even gave me stitches at one point._

Remy tilted her head to the side. _Um…_

_No, not that point._

* * *

><p>It was finally over. Dr. Miller wouldn't return to his office that day and no one would come looking for them in the forest at night. Remy gently placed Cameron on the snow and laid down without even thinking of finding a better, warmer spot, since it was just then that she realized how utterly exhausted she was. The sun had long ago disappeared behind the horizon and the endless unlatching had worn both women out.<p>

_Please stop licking your butt in front of me_, Remy requested even though her eyes were already closed._ It's still weird._

Cameron the cat jumped and tripped, rolling over in the snow. _Wha—wh—Sorry—I guess it's a, um, a cat thing, I wasn't really paying attention, you know um I just kind of…_

_I get it, cat business. Whatever floats your boat._

The cat shrugged off the stubborn snow and sat down next to Remy, wagging her tail slowly in an almost hypnotic way. _Is Princeton all lit up like it used to be?_

Thirteen lifted her head to glance past the few trees separating the two of them from the park, behind which lied Princeton itself. _Yeah. All shiny and full of cheesy Christmas decorations. Everone's indoors enjoying some tea and good company, I suppose._

_ Christmas… I forgot; it has to be sometime around these days._ Cameron wasn't really speaking, nor could she exhibit any signs of a body language Remy was familiar with, but she could still sense the melancholic sorrow radiating from her.

_I'm sure we'll be done here by Christmas Eve,_ she said and nudged the cat's side in a playful manner and rested her head back on her paws.

_Well… Merry Christmas, anyway._ Before Remy had a chance to even _think_ of a reply, the cat's tongue flicked over her muzzle, and Cameron cuddled up in a ball next to her, seeking shelter in the grey mane.

The wolf snuggled up even closer. _Merry Christmas to you too._

It was sweet until she realized where said tongue had been and clenched her jaw.

_Oh god, she did it on purpose. She SO did it on purpose._


	3. W2D3 Resist Your Partner

**Author's Note:** First off, I am terribly sorry for almost forgetting about this fic, to the few who are still reading this. Life's been pretty much living hell these last few weeks and a break could _not_ be caught (/end my Leonard Hofstadter impression), with even more unfortunate events popping up every now and then to properly rub it in, so to speak. It took 9 hours of nonstop staring at school today for my inner Cadley femslasher to kick in and kick my ass over to the computer.

I want to assure you that I definitely have not forgotten, nor will I ever forget, about this fic. It's what I sit through those nine hours at school for. :] In return, here have an extra long chapter which I got _unbelievably_ bored with and was quite frankly trying to cut it short since about halfway in, but hopefully it's still at least remotely enjoyable. I am never, ever doing this type of plot again.

And again, all landmarks mentioned in this chapter are purely real. (Except for the PPTH itself, obviously.) Also, there is a downright _shameless_ X-Men Origins reference. I can't help it, I just love them stories.

* * *

><p><strong>Week 2, Day 3: Resist Your Partner<strong>

One week and three days ago, Remy Hadley had found herself in a very unfortunate situation, grasped and choked by powers present but unknown to her until that one life-changing moment. She had closed herself before the world but had forgotten to keep her mind open to herself. The path of her life has twisted and turned every few steps, giving her the opportunity to make more enemies, take more chances, risk more gains and slow her down as much as possible. You could say she was happy that way.

Today, Remy Hadley found herself waking up clinging to another human being in silent search of acceptance, understanding, fulfillment of her need to provide protection and escape from the inevitable judgments of existence, all of which the blonde wrapped in her arms could give her. For the first time in years, Remy woke up next to another person and didn't feel the need to immediately reflect on what the hell had happened the night before. You could say she was happier that way.

Happier perhaps, but plagued by doubts.

"Morning, pup," mumbled Allison and proceeded to disentangle herself from Thirteen's grasp, which felt slightly awkward given the fact that the two were lying in a position that would be considered humanly impossible by most, all thanks to their metamorphosis back into a much more familiar form.

Remy all but refused to move, raising an eyebrow at the older woman. "Good morning to you too. So how does your butt feel today?" she countered the reference with a grin.

"I'm not sure. I might need to get it checked out. Hey, what a coincidence, _you_'re a doctor! Are you up to the task?" the blonde responded as she stretched out, sore all over after being squished for a good few hours. She couldn't help but giggle under her breath; there she was, shamelessly flirting with her younger colleague. Then again, Thirteen practically asked for it, right?

_Allison Cameron, you foxy little minx. You will never cut it out, will you?_ Thirteen let out a mental sigh. Saving Cameron's hiney – literally – was an easier challenge than dealing with her later, especially with the dillema of whether to reciprocate for the sake of light-hearted fun or dismiss the jokes completely. Normally, she would reply with a dozen of bolder innuendos with her poker face firmly on, but a voice at the back of her mind kept reminding her of the other doctor's rather unexpected proposition a few days prior. _"Because I'm falling for you and I want you to be happy_._"_ Was this even the same person?

Thankfully, she was saved by the phone's ring. "As tempting as it sounds, looks like we can't catch a break. Check this out:"

_"Mission 3: Solve the murder. You have 8 hours. Fail, and face erasure. – The Reapers"_

* * *

><p>Figuring out the meaning of the message didn't prove to be too difficult. All it took was a look or two at that day's newspaper. The date said <em>December 20<em>_th__, 2010_. Underneath it, a new headline stood sprawled across half the front page saying _'Waitress Found Dead in Her House on Wiggins – Ex-Husband Under Arrest'_. There was a photograph of a scruffy grey-haired man, probably in his fifties, next to the wall of text; the description said _'Rodney Lewis, former husband of the deceased Mary Anne Lewis'_. The hairs of his unkempt beard stuck out like cactus needles and his cheeks were dragged downwards by the persistent force of gravity over the years. The brunette scanned through the article, reading its contents out loud.

_'Yesterday at around midnight, the Princeton police department received an emergency call made by a woman who was claiming to be threatened by an armed man. The call was made from a house on Wiggins Street, just across the cemetery. Two police cars were sent to investigate the situation, but only found the body of Mary Anne Lewis (23). She was pronounced dead soon after the arrival of a doctor from the PPTH._

_ Neighbors report that Mary Anne was outgoing, but could rarely be seen at home. She used to spend most of the time at The Bent Spoon bar where she worked. Supposedly, she and her former husband could often be heard fighting inside the house, which is why Rodney Lewis was arrested later that night, his fingerprints having been found on the vase that was used as the murder weapon.'_

It was clear to both Cameron and Thirteen where their next steps would lead. After all, Wiggins Street was just around the corner.

* * *

><p>The Lewis house was circled by a yellow tape which repeated the words 'POLICE INVESTIGATION' again and again. Two guards stood on duty before the front door. Fortunately for the two Players, they couldn't see them, and so Cameron and Thirteen took the plunge and snuck into the house their own way. Psychs proved to be quite useful in the afterlife indeed.<p>

Thirteen was surprised to find out that though blind, Cameron was no longer dependent on her assistance as much as before. By losing her vision, the blonde learned to pay more attention to the world around her instead of herself; to listen and go with the sounds instead of stumbling in the darkness. Perhaps with this skill came a certain acceptance that her sense of sight would never be returned to her, which made it easier to adapt to the harsh circumstances. Only this way did she find out there was a whole other world only for her to see behind the veil of the iris.

Slightly disgruntled by the fact that her partner remained so calm about the matter, but also pleased with her becoming less vulnerable and more flexible – maybe _enjoying_ the disposition at times, even – Remy found herself a little jealous of the older doctor's adaptability. Little things like crossing the street or finding the right pin were no problem for Cameron anymore. With a sigh, the brunette mentally slapped herself for being an attention whore. If Allison could improve and get by better without her, well then, that was perfectly good for them both, wasn't it; at least for the time being, until they've reclaimed what was rightfully theirs. Obviously she wasn't going to be able to complete the missions without her anytime soon, anyway.

"Ladies first," Thirteen said and gestured towards the empty hallway with a polite bow of her head, leaving Cameron's playful smile to appear.

It was a small but cosy residence. Thirteen closed the door and stepped on the forest green carpet spread across the floor. There were three more doors; two to the left and one to the right. The one to the right led to a living room combined with a kitchen which, despite it's mediocre size, seemed spacious due to lack of fancy (and redundant) furniture. Everything seemed to fall into place; nothing was missing and there was nothing extra either, safe for the dried blood stain on the carpet and shards of clay lying purposelessly around.

The first room to the left was as plain as the living room, with only a wardrobe, a double bed and two nightstands, all harmonized in shades of wood beige. On one of the nightstands stood a simple lamp and a book titled 'Åsa Larsson – Until Thy Wrath be Past'. The dark haired girl on the cover was pictured walking, perhaps away from something, on a cold winter day, a leather coat over her shoulders. She seemed vaguely familiar to Remy; almost like a reflection from long ago. A reflection of the past. The brunette looked the girl in the eye. _What's your story?_

Nothing of use was found in either of the rooms, however. The chamber at the back of the house was the only one they hadn't checked.

When she walked in, an expression of genuine awe crossed Cameron's features, making her look like a child in a candy castle. She was astounded. "What is this? It smells like vanilla."

The room was all pink, from the sheets and Barbie covers on the bed to the drawers. A picture of two horses gallopping side by side hung on the wall. The friendly vibe of it all was what captured the blonde's attention. As Allison was preoccupied running her fingers over the equally bright pink notebook lying on the table, Thirteen's gaze stopped at an oversized ladybug plushie lying on the pillow. She tilted her head and picked it up to inspect it.

"Looks like Mary had a child… Where could she be now?" Cameron mused, trailing her fingers over the plastic letters 'NATALIE' glued to the wall. There was a window drawn behind each letter and as a whole, the drawing seemed to make out a train. "Something the matter?" she asked when no response came.

Remy jerked her head in her companion's direction. "Nothing. Nothing, I just—" Her lips curled into a barely noticeable smile before it faded and was replaced by a haunting darkness in her eyes. "—had the same plushie when I was little." She shook her head, dismissing the memories that invaded it without permission.

Cameron didn't know anything about this woman's past. She didn't know the scared, damaged, but mostly happy little Remy. She knew the stubborn, sarcastic, flamboyant, flirtatious and sometimes childish Thirteen. Given Thirteen's condition, though, it didn't take much for her to split up the peas into the right bowls. There was something irreplaceable, indescribable that Thirteen left behind – no, that was taken from her and torn apart – half a lifetime ago, and perhaps she was never meant to find the clown in the box. Allison let the ladybug's inappropriately huge head rest in her palms as she faced the other woman. Obviously they were there to investigate, but no one had ever said what. She was able to make out the form and the wire antennae. "Do you miss it?" she inquired, never tearing her blank gaze from the fluffy cloth.

Just then, Remy's hands tightened around the plushie in an iron, almost painful grip she wasn't able to control. _You're going to die._ Why did she even tell Cameron about the damn thing? Before her hands had the chance to start shaking, Remy yanked the ladybug out of the blonde's hands and threw it against the wall with unspeakable force, a glimmer of rage firing up in her eyes. In the blink of an eye, Cameron found herself in a similar position, flinching backwards with her back stuck firmly to the wall while the tall brunette propped herself against it with her arms to either side of Cameron, who felt as if she got mixed up in a pack of wolves marking their territory where she was randomly passing through; now completely in the tall brunette's possession.

"Listen, Cameron, all my life I've been living up to a certain set of rules and you are no different. Coindicentally, these rules include no excessive friendliness, no prying, no first name basis. You keep breaking every rule I set up," she hissed, her voice frighteningly calm compared to the earlier outburst, and her eyes colder than icicles.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Cameron stuttered. In a way, her gut kept telling her she was safe, but blindly staring into those grey plains in her eyes, she was all too aware of Remy's captivating skills. Strip you of your strength and will and make it her own; she could do that all too well and she used the power wisely.

Thirteen instinctively found herself moving closer to her blonde companion, but this time it was her body speaking up. It – she – wanted to be closer to those luscious lips, but she was trying to shun that thought out of her mind with every fiber of her being. "_This_ is an _extremely bad idea_," she whispered, knowing she could afford it, and perhaps not quite wanting to say the words. The two women were now mere inches apart. "Someone deserves your care, but that person is not me. There's no room for you in my world. Ever. I'm in the death row, I'm your colleague, if there's anything I feel for you, it's nothing but common physical attraction, and I refuse to accept your feelings because there is someone who can cherish them in the right way. I can't. I never could, and I will never be able to."

She could hear Cameron breathing in sync with her own breath, both their mouths slightly open. In a matter of seconds, everything that was being said simply vanished into thin air and faded away into nothingness, blinded by the instinct to capture the older doctor's lips with her own. She resisted it. However, the blonde didn't. Remy's breathing quickened as she realized the already virtually nonexistent space separating the two was becoming smaller and smaller and she shut her eyes almost involuntarily.

The room remained silent. Fire was threatening to erupt in her stomach, but it never did. The kiss never came. Instead, Allison moved carefully to whisper in Thirteen's ear. "Then why are _you_ the one pinning _me_ to the wall?" she whispered before retreating into a safe distance.

Remy stared at her bewildered, letting realization wash over her. Even in the corner, Cameron was a trickster making a fool of her and Remy got busted.

"Why are you telling me this?" Cameron continued.

The brunette cleared her throat and straightened herself. "I was just making sure we were clear. I'm not a puppet you can cuddle when you feel like it."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I did last night."

"I'm not an experiment for you to pick apart and examine under a microscope," Thirteen continued, ignoring Cameron's painfully true remark. "I'm not a lab rat for you to dissect and arrange what's inside into neatly labeled shelves and boxes. You can have House for that, as I know you have and I know you will. It's in your nature to be the hardworking, curious scientist, trying to fix everything and make it perfect again, and I'm sorry, but you're out of usable subjects. You can't sharpen a rock, no matter how hard you try; you can't find flawlessness where it never existed to begin with. There's no such thing. You strive too hard, get involved in things you should have avoided like the plague, and then it gets to the point where you realize that all of a sudden it's different and much more difficult to judge and condemn when it's your point of interest being on the other side of law, isn't it?"

For all she knew, Remy could have thought Cameron was delusional, and a part of her understood that, smacking the meticulous, irritating part square in the hemisphere. She had a point about other things, too. If it were anyone else killing three people because of her, _for her_, Cameron would have turned their back on them and walked away. But this wasn't anyone else, and not-anyone-else was blaming them both for not being able to evade a bullet that never misses. "We're clear as crystal, Dr. Hadley," Allison reassured her, traces of unreadable emotion just barely sneaking in the shadows of her words.

She was going to walk away as she thought the conversation to be over, but was stopped by Thirteen blocking her way. "Do you know why the Moon is so lonely?" the brunette asked, never taking her piercing eyes off the other woman.

Cameron frowned. For such a coy, standoffish person, Remy had interesting ways of returning to the topic at hand when no one else was interested; or, as in this case, sidetracking to universes unknown. "Why?"

"Because she used to have a lover."

There was obviously something other than fear on Thirteen's mind. "What happened?" Allison asked with genuine interest; not as much in the Moon's fate, but in the punchline that was to come, and the point Thirteen was making. She was there to listen.

"His name was Kuekuwatsu and he was the most passionate of all spirits. Together, he and the Moon would wander the skies together every night and rest in the labyrinthine caves during the day. But there was another spirit, the Trickster, who was blinded with lust and wanted the Moon for himself, so he devised a plan. One night, he found Kuekuwatsu hunting stars for his mate. He told him that the Moon had asked for flowers, and that he should come to our realm and find a blue rose for her." The brunette had an absentminded expression on her face, staring deep into the void white abyss, looking for something that was never there in the first place, even though she was convinced of the opposite and thus unrelenting. "Kuekuwatsu would have given his soul for the Moon. What he didn't know was that once you leave the spirit world, you can never go back. He's locked out of his world away from his beloved, and every night he watches the Moon in the sky with the Trickster, and every night he howls her name until he can no longer breathe. Even so, he can never touch her again."

There was something in the way Remy told the legend with such zeal, the depth in her calm voice, her gaze never wavering so it felt as if she were searching through Allison's very soul like it was a book she had borrowed from the library. The blonde's brows furrowed as she felt the tiniest bit of salty water trying to well up in her eyes. She was silently asking the younger woman for confirmation; she was pleading for her to crush Allison's hopes. _Never again?_

Finally, Thirteen averted her eyes to the floor. _Never again._

"I don't see your point," Cameron managed to stutter.

"The point is that I'm trying to figure out your role in this story, and I can't decide whether you're the Moon, or the Trickster," the internist spat out and left for the hallway, leaving Allison to ponder her fate on her own. The irony was almost pitiful. Dr. Remy Hadley felt poisoned with the aggravating clash of pure human desire and an experienced, knowledgeable set of neurons. Like a disease, her immune system started crumbling and attacking its own, confused by all the sudden and unexpected changes, she thought. Oh that's right; Dr. Cameron was an immunologist; she could diagnose her in an instant. If a certain supernatural entity existed, it was laughing right in her face. When angels and demons had nothing left to prove, that was when the bare misery of suppressed humanity came to life.

"Where do you think the girl is?"

Distracted from the ever so productive activity of attempting to dig a hole in the floor by glaring, Thirteen spun around to see Cameron approaching, steadying herself against the wall, without so much as a hint that their previous conversation ever happened. "What girl?"

"Natalie. The daughter. She can't be in the father's custody now that he's under arrest," Allison pointed out. "What about her extended family?" she guessed.

One of Cameron's many great assets was her sense of detail that she preserved because she knew her there was an important place for little but invaluable information in her career. Working under House for so long, she learned to check everything and underestimate nothing. The problem was that for her to detect sources of these information, sight was a critical requirement.

Thirteen shook her head. "There was nothing suggesting they kept in touch with their relatives, or that there ever were any. No pictures, no postcards, no messages on the phone. Looks like we have no choice but to pay the dad a visit."

"And then what? Ask him politely 'Hi, did you kill your ex-wife?'"

Thirteen rolled her eyes. For someone with such exceptional memory concerning details, Cameron tended to overlook the important. "Imprinting," she stated simply.

* * *

><p><em>Drip. Drip. Drip.<em> Every once in a while, a fresh drop emerged from the faucet and bedewed the dirty white washbasin, then continued making its way down into the endless depths, but only a few managed to get that far; just to fall even deeper, resembling the unfortunate fates of human existence. It definitely held great resemblance to the broken figure sitting on the floor beside the basin.

It was none other than Rodney Lewis, looking as if he had just climbed out of the sewers, on the inside as well as the outside. His shirt was wrinkled, countless holes in his jeans revealing dirt-covered skin, a messy fringe sticking to the man's sweaty forehead. Thirteen was fairly sure he would lunge at them in spite of the iron bars the second he saw them if he could. The smell of booze and cigarettes hung limply in the air around him.

"I'd suspect this guy even if he wasn't Mary's ex…" uttered Thirteen.

Cameron, on the other hand, didn't have to see the culprit to have goosebumps rising on the back of her neck. "Let me handle this," she demanded.

_Natalie. Natalie. Natalie._

The man stood up and stomped over to the door of his cell, shaking the bars violently. A raging voice echoed through the hallway. "Hey! I know you can hear me ye little fucks! _Tell me where my daughter is!_"

"Shut your cunt, faggot!" another voice grumbled from three cells away.

The sound of door opening made its way through the corridor, and when Cameron and Thirteen looked in its general direction, they could see a younger man, accompanied by two other policemen, walking their way. The man in the middle was wearing a casual dark suit and his proud posture gave off an uncomfortable but respectful 'government official' vibe. "A visitor for Rodney Lewis!" his escort announced.

"We meet again, Rod."

"That's Mr. Lewis to you, scum," Rodney scowled and proceeded to spit on the man's feet for added effect. "Where's Natalie?"

"Should we teach him a lesson, Mr. McKinley?" one of the policemen asked, looking at the newcomer.

"That won't be necessary, thank you," the man replied calmly, gesturing for them to stay back. Either way, whatever act of opposition meant nothing on the other side of the bars. Beating Rodney up would just be using the excuse; he who wants to beat a dog will always find a cane. Thankfully, this mysterious man sticking out like fish on sand here had better things to do. "Natalie is safe with me. Don't worry; we'll find the killer and get you out of here as soon as we can."

"You never gave a shit about this family, you bastard. Why would you start now? I can already see ye chillin' in Costa Rica after you've bribed everyone to flip me off. Then again, it's not like I give a shit," Rodney muttered and stumbled to the back of the cell, swaying from side to side like a drunken bear.

Thirteen's breathing hitched when she saw the strange man leaving without another word; there went their only clue. "He's leaving!"

"I got this," the blonde whispered for no particular reason.

The man's brows furrowed in a frown and his pace gradually slowed down as he stared blankly at the way out for the shortest of moments before reaching into the pocket of his suit and pulling out a neat piece of rough paper. "Could you let me know if you find out anything new?"

Following Cameron's train of thought, Thirteen glanced at the business card. _Michael McKinley, divorce lawyer._ "If he's got the girl, then that must mean…"

"They were related," Cameron finished for her.

* * *

><p>The lock clicked in a familiar greeting towards the silvery key and its equally orderly owner walking through the door.<p>

A little girl's voice came next, sounding as joyful as jingle bells in Christmas carols. "Uncle Mike!" squealed the 7 year old as she hopped over along with a golden retriever as tall as herself, clutching the hairs on the dog's neck for support.

"Hello there, princess!" Michael greeted the little creature with a warm smile while taking off his suit and casually dropping it onto a small table by the mirror. "Did you take good care of our kingdom while I was gone?"

The girl nodded vigorously. "Yes! Scooby helped, too!"

Michael patted the drooling dog's head. "Of course he did. Are you two up for lunch?"

Two women followed close after unseen and watched the family's messy cooking ritual, little Natalie all too eager to help, so eager she accidentally dropped a whole bowl's worth of pepper into the spicy sauce. Michael shook it off with a grin and comforted the sobbing child, saying it was no big deal, and the smiles returned.

"You're not gonna try it out on the kid, are you?" the blonde asked, a bucketload of worry evident in the tone of her voice.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No!" Cameron exclaimed, tugging at the neckline of Remy's jacket. "She's just a little girl!"

"He's going to have to lie to her about it sooner or later," the brunnete pointed out.

_Aren't you curious about mommy?_

"When's mommy coming home?" the girl asked all of a sudden, and the air instantly became heavy and thick and filled with reluctance.

All hints of a smile faded from the man's face. He waited in silence for a while, stirring the sauce, before he spoke up. "Mom did something very bad, honey, and now she's being punished for it, because we're not supposed to do bad things." Now some soya sauce and spices for the flavor…

_But what did mommy do?_ Thirteen thought and let the girl repeat her words. Natalie hopped over and started tugging on Michael's pants. "What did mommy do? What did mommy do?"

Finally, the man put the pan off the stove to let it cool off and kneeled, taking the girl's little hands in his. "Have you ever heard the word 'hooker', sweetie?" Natalie shook her head. "That's good. It's a nasty word you should never say. We use it when we talk about people who sell themselves for money. Mommy knew you should never, ever do that, but she did it anyway, so God grew mad with mommy and sent her to hell."

Blonde locks of hair curled on the girl's shoulders as she hung her head and sobbed softly. "But hell is not a nice place. Mommy must be sad there."

"Don't worry, honey, she's just going to be there for a little while, so she learns her lesson. Then she'll go to heaven and wait for you there, okay?" Michael reassured her.

Just then, a faint glimpse of light tore its way through the front pocket of the man's pants, followed by a strange, glowing plasticine-like limb that moved by itself. Soon other slim stems crawled out and in the end they were all joined by a light blue bulb. The creature reminded Thirteen of a small jellyfish. It floated in the air, falling slowly down and then propping itself up again and again in a mysterious dance around the unknowing man. Its glow was captivating, mesmerizing, like a mozaic in an ancient temple changing colors under different angles of light. Illuminating the somber void, it called out to the brunette, inviting her to come closer, and so she did, taking one, then two steps forward. It sang to her, a peaceful lullaby made of wings of butterflies and feathers of sparrows. "So beautiful…" she muttered to herself.

Just as Remy reached out her hand, her fingertips milliseconds away from touching the jellyfish, something grabbed her by the waist and quickly pulled her away. "I said don't touch it!" a familiar voice echoed, bringing her back down to earth.

The Noise let out a horrible, ear-piercing screech, sticking out its tentacles in all directions. It wasn't at all pleased at Cameron's interference with its plans; it was this close to capturing another Soul. The two women fell to the floor and covered their ears to protect themselves from the pain of the inexplicably loud noise. The next thing Thirteen saw when she recovered was the jellyfish whizzing past back and forth and then lunging at the blonde doctor, who lay frozen on the cold tiles.

There was a crack of fire and Cameron could only close her eyes before she was welcomed by darkness and silence fell on the world.

She waited, waited for something – anything – to appear, but nothing did. As she waited, she could hear a rhythm, a perfect metron, pounding somewhere as if in the distance. Then the rhythm got closer and louder and slower, seemingly tired from the long way it had to travel. It became irregular and ragged, and then relief washed over her when the ER head realized she was listening to her own breathing come and go.

"Nice save," came Thirteen's complimentary voice and then her hand closed over Cameron's, helping her up while putting the Pyrokinesis pin back in her pocket.

"You too," the blonde responded when she recovered from the shock.

His head hung limply and his back was arched, fingers tracing ghosts on the umbery stones.

Natalie poked his shoulder. "Uncle?"

"I sent mommy to hell." A daring confession for a child to bear.

The child frowned; it didn't understand. It knew the words, but acceptance of such fact was something unthinkable. "So it wasn't daddy who took her away?"

"No, sweetie. He had come there for you because I told him to but mommy didn't want him to leave with you, so he got a little mad. I thought neither of them could take care of you properly, so I sent them both to hell because I didn't realize that the rut Mary was in was already hell, with only one little angel – you."

"The Noise was possessing him," Thirteen commented on the scene, shaking her head in disbelief. "Mary didn't have enough money to raise Natalie all by herself, so she got to a side job as a prostitute as a last resort. Uncle Michael finds out her little secret and tells Rodney, planting the idea to take Natalie away in him. Rodney gets drunk and pissed off as usual. He visits Mary, they argue, husband throws the vase we found but doesn't hit her, then storms off. It's the uncle who then uses the opportunity to murder his sister and get away with it – and the child. Mother a hooker, father a drunk, uncle a killer… Those are some messed up family ties for the poor kid."

The blonde scoffed and held her head high in disdain for the broken figure on the floor, until it looked as if she were balancing an invisible glass on her chin, her blank eyes a reflection of the jury. "Noise are drawn towards negative emotions. The will to do what he did was already inside him." She turned on her heel and walked away, followed by Thirteen, who glanced over her shoulder one last time to see a naked little bird break into tears.

_Thank you, kid._


	4. W2D4 Stand Your Ground

**Week 2, Day 4: Stand Your Ground Before Your Partner**

Walking away from that place was one of the harder decisions Cameron and Thirteen had to make. They didn't speak afterwards and neither did they speak for a good while in the morning, simply lying next to each other and pondering over the past. The Reaper's Game was a vast, thick jungle where every discovery altered one's perception of reality. This sinister game was no longer just a challenge for the dead; it changed all lives, even the solid, earthbound innocence of a child. The previous day's mission made the two women wonder just how many times they'd fallen victim to an Angel's bidding, how many times they had been misled and toyed with. It made them sick, yet there was nothing they could do.

Having been freed of the Noise (and maybe slightly manipulated by a certain blonde's imprinting skills), Michael had confessed his sin to the police and order had returned to the town – order, not peace. "What do you think will happen to Natalie?" Allison inquired, leaning against the bark of a pine tree. Morning sunlight glittered in her hair and painted splotches in the snow.

"What matters is that she'll be safe. That's not what I'm worried about," replied the brunette sitting next to her.

"What is it then?"

"The system," Thirteen stated simply. "What if they sent the Noise after him? What if they ran out of ideas so they used this as an excuse for a new mission? What if they needed a new Player and captured Mary's Soul this way? We might as well run into her."

"Didn't they explain all that to you when you worked with them?" Cameron asked, cursing her lack of tact a second too late.

Thirteen shot her a look. "Yes, _of course_ they spilled their guts to me the second I grew wings _to save you_, out of sheer fascination with my overwhelming potential and drive to kill," she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You know that's not what I meant," Allison soothed her in an apologetic tone. "I was just thinking out loud," she muttered.

"Don't bother, Allison." Thirteen pulled herself up, supporting herself with her knee, and turned away without taking a single look at her partner. As Cameron was contemplating her choice of words, their phones went off.

_ "Mission 4: Face your fears. Don't worry, they'll find you. – The Reapers"_

"You mean there's something scarier here than grizzly bears and tiger skeletons and my own dead body? I don't think there's any fear left in me to feed on anymore," the ER head mumbled and closed her eyes. She knew that if the Reapers said there was no point in running, she might as well rest and clear her conscience instead. There was power in preparation.

_Maybe you've been through it all, but I can imagine some nasty stuff going down – none of which I can possibly be ready for,_ Thirteen thought. The blind Cameron also appeared blinded by ignorance. There was so much to be scared of; enemies, pain, loss, emotion, death. No way could she seriously mean that, could she?

As if she were peeking into her thoughts, Cameron spoke up again. "We've already lost what we value most – twice. Speaking of which, what was your second entry fee?"

Of course, Remy knew all along. There was no mystery to it since she gave it up willingly. "Technically, there was only one option to go with. I gave up my immortality, and with it my life, didn't I?" she stated, bitterness soaking her words.

"Do you regret it?"

The blonde remained unreadable, but Remy could see the hidden message very clearly. _Do you regret saving me?_ She felt guilty for even making Cameron think that the option was there. The girl hadn't done anything wrong. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person; someone who couldn't protect her and not hurt her at the same time. "Of course not," Thirteen shot back as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Nevertheless, deep down she knew the cruel truth – they were both equally frightened.

* * *

><p><em>Remy? What have you done, Remy?<em>

Someone was calling her. The brunette opened her eyes and sat up. Her entire body was sore and her head was pounding, much like it would after a good long night of vodka, gin, tonic and sex. "Who is it?" she called out, squinting and shielding her face from the radiant light. It was everywhere, consuming all but the two figures that lay before her.

"How could you do this, Remy!" yelled the first, bulkier one, cradling the other in its arms. It looked up at Thirteen, who was petrified to recognize the face of her father.

"D-dad?" she stuttered, propping herself up on her knees.

"Don't you ever call me that again! You killed Anne! You killed my beloved!"

Remy's porcelain face was paler than the dead body in the arms of John Hadley. Life had abandoned this festering shell decades ago but her mother's distinctive features were still recognizable. The well-defined jawline her daughter inherited and the bone thin fingers, even her mother's favorite olive sweater, all of these spelled out Anne's name. The only thing Thirteen didn't recognize was the huge, bloody gash in the corpse's abdomen, and the dry blood on Thirteen's hands, which she could never wash off. She was too stunned to say anything besides "I didn't—"

"I know you hated your mother. You despised her for what she did when she had no choice, and you left her to rot!"

"That's not true! I loved mom!" Remy defended herself.

"_You_ didn't say goodbye to your mother the last time I had to drive her to the hospital! _You_ didn't go with us, unlike your brother! _You_ are the reason her heart broke and _you_ are the reason she's dead!" The man's desperate howling was digging a hole in Thirteen's heart, but he only growled at her whenever she tried to come closer. "You know, I never wanted a second child. But Anne always dreamed of having a daughter and I wanted to make her wish come true. I was right about you from the very beginning, though – you should have never been born. Now you're here, killing and spreading your filth to that other woman, just like you have infected so many before and just like you left every one of them."

"Dad, you have no idea how sorry I am—" Thirteen sobbed. She had finally done it – she had driven her only family away. That was it; there she kneeled with no one and nothing left to lose in the entire world. A good enough reason to cry. "I never meant for any of that to happen," she whispered brokenly, her face contorted as she failed to struggle with the flow of tears.

"You can shove your apologies, you spoiled brat. You called your own mother a bitch when she could barely remember her own name! _You_ are the reason she died knowing her miracle despised her guts! _It's your fault!_"

Thirteen curled up in a ball and covered her ears with those blood-stained hands of hers. She couldn't bear listening to this any longer, moreover because she knew that all that had been said was bare, ruthless truth, down to every dot at the end of every sentence. "Please, don't blame me," she repeated over and over under her breath, shaking her head. It hurt to hear, to see, to breathe. This couldn't be real.

Wait a second.

This, in fact, could not be real.

The brunette wiped away the tears and looked up at the ghost of her father with a frown. "How do you know I called her _that word?_ You were at Jake's school's play when it happened. You've never met Allison, either." She watched as the figure hunched over her mother's corpse went still and her suspicions grew more real. "How did I get here, anyway?"

The sobs quieted down and then, laughter. Mad laughter filled the air and the bright darkness all around. "You pass," a ringing voice said as the illusion of her father dissipated and in its place sat a blonde teenage boy, grinning.

"You—!" She was going to strangle him right then and there.

"_Au revoir," _the boy waved with a jeer and vanished before Thirteen had the chance to deliver a powerful kick in a sensitive area. Instead she went weak in the knees and stumbled. Her head felt even dizzier than when she had awoken and she fell to the ground, giving in to the other voice calling her name.

_Remy, wake up!_

* * *

><p>It was Cameron's voice that snapped her out of limbo, wasn't it? If so, then why wasn't her blonde hair the first thing for Thirteen to see when she came to? Why did she have to see the dim grey sky just to be reminded of her father's miserable wails, even though she knew John was really at home watching today's football match and not reflecting on the day their life turned upside down? She shook the thought off and stood up, noticing her companion's jacket had been neatly folded and placed under her head when she was unconscious. <em>Classic Cameron.<em> She looked around to see said blonde standing still like a marble statue and watching something Thirteen couldn't make out very intently. She grabbed the cloth and walked over to Cameron while trying to spot the cause of her distress.

Allison must have been freezing but she wouldn't even try to warm herself up as little nests of snowflakes started forming in her hair. "Allison?" Remy approached her with caution and noticed that to her surprise, color had returned to Allison's eyes, dying them moss green and perhaps even more vivid than before. She could tell however that today, it wasn't a change for the better. The ER head was visibly frightened by some unknown phantom, her breath, quick and uneven, drawing spirals in the chilly air. "Allison, whatever you see, it's not there, trust me," she assured her, hesitating to put her hand on the blonde's shoulder.

Cameron slowly raised her hand and pointed in front of her. "Him."

At last, Remy could see the culprit walking up to them. It was no six-legged furry beast, nor a medieval executioner or some other archetypal character that scares children in fairytales; it wasn't even House with an axe-cane, and that quite frankly was one of the more terrifying pictures Thirteen could imagine. It was just a man and the only thing he and House might have had in common was his age and patches of grey, scruffy hair. He had a round beer gut and like herself knew how to make good use of suspenders, but that was all Remy could see. "It's just some guy—"

"Hey, Allie! It's been so long!" the man interrupted her with a gregarious laugh.

The brunette frowned in response. "—who is obviously closely affiliated with you in some way."

All of a sudden, Allison's eyes shone with a faint white glow and so did a nearby pine tree. Thirteen watched with her mouth open as the tree was ripped out of the ground in one swift motion, needles scattered in all directions, and flung directly towards the stranger by an invisible hand. Fortunately, the brunette was quick to act, promptly dropping the jacket, running after the tree and slicing the pine to pieces before it could harm anyone. "What the hell, Allison!"

"I'm going to kill him, so would you please be so kind as to get out of my way?" the blonde asked politely but her eyes and clenched fists spoke of calm before the storm.

Remy looked from her partner to the man, who looked genuinely confused as much as herself, and then back at Cameron. "Like hell you are. What the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

"I don't want to hurt you." Allison stared at her emotionlessly much like a doll, fear and anger both hidden behind a barrier, but she could see through it like a bride's veil. This doll felt both, and the only reason she gave off this icy cold, calm vibe, was because the two were fighting to the death and it was only a matter of time before one would prevail over the other.

"Then don't," Thirteen responded, raising her voice in a question towards the end of the sentence. She had never seen this side of Cameron before; so methodic, so unwavering, so certain in what she was about to do. Wait, was this another dream? Was this another of the terrors haunting the back of Remy's mind, changing Allison into a heartless rock? But Joshua had explicitly stated that she had passed. Then again, he wasn't renowned for his honesty.

"Stand aside," the blonde repeated.

"No," Thirteen said and although her spirit sword was pointing to the ground, it was out and ready to face any dangers in a heartbeat.

"Allie, I just wanted to say hi. Why don't you ever call? Why don't you ever write?" said the man, apparently waiting for the blonde to run into his arms, and Remy was sure he had no business here but what she was clueless about was why. The only thing she knew was that she was not going to let him die for no apparent reason.

"_You're not supposed to be here!"_ Cameron screamed.

Thirteen saw the blue pin glistening in Cameron's hand and her eyes widened when she realized her partner was concentrating on the spell. "No!" she exclaimed and shoved the man aside just in time before a nine feet tall icicle sprung from the snow below.

"You give me no choice." Her voice was so solemnly monotone one would think she was already giving a speech on the strange man's burial.

Wires lashed out from behind Cameron and aimed straight for Thirteen. "You're kidding," the brunette muttered and cut them to pieces, but every time she hit one, the other branch simply moved and expanded by itself, scratching and ripping through her at will. _This is one fucking messed up nightmare, though I'm still not sure whose nightmare it is,_ Remy thought as she fell to her knees, choked and tied by sharp thorns until she could no longer move. "I hate to be a nuisance but this is pretty damn uncomfortable. Do you think you could, um, you know, pull yourself together?"

"I'm sorry," the doll apologized sincerely.

"Sweetie, don't you remember your ninth birthday? It's me! I gave you that pink pony doll you always wanted and you named it Nancy," soothed the nameless man.

"I've spent twenty one years trying to forget my ninth birthday!" Cameron cried, tears welling up in her eyes along with what Thirteen could finally recognize as being a dark tint of pure, one hundred percent concentrated rage, absorbing her whole. The blonde didn't move a muscle as more wires swam through the air and wrapped themselves around the object of her diabolic anger.

"Cameron, don't!" Thirteen could only watch as her partner walked past her straight to the man, who was now writhing in her grip, daisies of ice sprouting wherever she set foot as a premise of a frigid eternity.

Cameron kneeled next to him and tilted her head at an angle, examining the twisting figure. "How do you even sleep at night," she asked rhetorically, knowing he couldn't answer because she was tightening the thorny grip on his fat neck at the same time. She was going to watch this to the very end, unexplainably consumed by thirst for revenge.

"Stop this! This isn't you! This isn't the Allison I know!" Thirteen was desperately trying to get back on her feet and ended up half crawling, half stumbling.

"There's much you don't know," Allison stated. Her expression changed to one of pity when she saw her only friend here struggling and dying the snow with her blood. "Don't fight me," she warned, but Remy was too stubborn and too savvy in matters of self-loathing to listen.

"Listen to me! Whatever you feel towards this man, fear of him is not your greatest fear. Your greatest fear is murdering someone you hate because it's your utmost desire but deep down you know you will never forgive yourself!"

"What are you talking about? I'm not afraid to kill useless animals," Cameron spat out as her fingers traced a line spelling out her own name on the man's chest. Following the line, a thorn dug its way through the skin, imprinting the despised word into his flesh – _Allie._ Said woman seemed pleased with herself to say the least as she watched her victim gasp and choke on breath.

"Please don't do this. I've been there! I know what it's like to feel the surge of power when you kill, but power is fleeting and the only thing you'll be left with is guilt and more suffering!" Unable to take a step without hurting herself, Thirteen stumbled and dropped to her knees in front of the blonde. "I wanted revenge. I wanted this to end. Do you think relief is what I got?" She grunted and winced in pain as the wires cut valleys into her arms and legs but refused to look away. For the first time, she truly, honestly wanted Cameron to see who she was behind the names and the façade and the greyish blues. "You can see better than anyone. Find your answer, because I'm not going anywhere."

Cameron's eyebrows curved upward and tears followed the salty paths on her cheeks once more. "What have I done?"

Remy sucked in a grateful gulp of air when the wires constricting her loosened their grip, allowing her to breathe freely. She glanced over her shoulder to see the same happening to the wounded man. She brushed off the last remains of the wire and embraced the shivering doll.

"What have I done?" Cameron repeated as she buried her head in the crook of Remy's neck. "I'm a monster."

"Oh no, you could never be. It's just an illusion," the brunette said, cradling Allison in her arms in a desperate attempt to erase the past. "No more, just an illusion."

"Make it go away," Cameron whispered brokenly and her tears dyed Remy's jacket all shades of dark, along with the pain and anguish far too great for one to bear.

The man stood up, gave them one last impish jeer, and disappeared, leaving no doubt as to his true identity in Thirteen. "There, it's gone," she whispered, looking into the distance where her father's voice called out her name. "Forever."

She waited until Allison was lulled into numbness before posing her question, as she knew she only had one chance to ask. "Who was he?" She had a strange feeling that had she known who the person's real equivalent was, she wouldn't have been so eager to stop the blonde.

At first it looked like Cameron didn't hear her at all. She kept clinging to Remy for dear life, occasionally interrupted by a sob. Eventually, the answer came – or something akin to an answer. "House was right the first time around."

"I'm sorry?"

"When Foreman got the job at Diagnostics four years ago, he told me House had only hired him because he saw a black guy with a juvenile record. He had hired Chase because his dad made a call. So I asked him why he hired me." The blonde paused, gathering strength for what was to come.

"And?"

"I still remember every detail of that conversation._'Gorgeous women do not go to medical school,' _he said._ 'Were you abused by a family member? Sexually assaulted?_'"

Thirteen prayed to all the gods from Zeus to Isis and Allah that the punchline of this story wasn't what she expected it to be.

"I denied both_._ He told me: _'But you are damaged, aren't you?'_ Afterwards, I ran home and cried myself to sleep. It's not something I'm proud of; I just hate how he's always right with every thing he says, no matter how much I don't want it to be true. And somehow, I still think he knows I lied that time, and that one single pinch of sympathy he has forced him to never mention it again. That man was my uncle," she said almost too quietly to be heard.

At that moment, Thirteen remembered everything. She remembered why she had come up to the blonde and asked her to be her partner. She remembered why she had placed her trust in this woman, why she held her this close when there was nowhere left to go. She remembered why she had been willing to sacrifice her chances and kill for the heartbroken doctor in her arms. She remembered her true mission – to protect the butterfly because she was biologically unable to stand aside and do nothing. It was just too hard for her to watch an angel fall time and again, and she didn't want to resist the need to hold her when she cries. She never wanted Allison to feel this kind of pain again, however naïve her knightly hopes were. "Thank you for telling me," she whispered into the older woman's hair, gently caressing it. "You did good."

"There's a dark layer to you and there's a _very_ dark layer to me. It's in all of us. I have yet to learn how to live with it, but I'll be just fine," Cameron said with determination, looking up at her savior just in time for Thirteen to see her eyes reverting back to the blank void.

_I hate what I've become_

_The nightmare's just begun_

_I must confess _

_That I feel like a monster…_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Whoa, this was intense. I keep surprising myself. In addition to this chapter being much darker than the others, I basically sat through this and wrote it in about 8 hours since the morning, which is a personal achievement for me… right up to the point when I realize I have a history test to take tomorrow. Oh joy. (Then again, fanfiction is simply more important.)

Lyrics at the end belong to Skillet – Monster. An awesome band right there, I must say.

Do I make them suffer too much?

...

NAAAH. :]


	5. W2D5 Feel Your Partner

**Author's Note of Joy and Love:** Finally, I can FINALLY change the rating to M! Oh LORD how much development this took, hopefully well-handled development. It's my first time getting here from scratch, so, you know.

…Yeah, the fic is now M-rated. I thought you should know. Proceed with caution.

* * *

><p><strong>Week 2, Day 5:<strong> Feel Your Partner

There was something strange about waking up to Cameron entangled in her arms. Sure, Remy loved it; it was comforting, a refuge, a small reminder of what she could experience on a daily basis if she just asked for it. Even though it was her holding the blonde, somehow she could Allison emanate an aura of protectiveness instead of consuming it. Not that she minded, for this was as close as she would get and she loved every second of it. Until her brain would wake up as well and start complaining. _She has secrets_. Everyone has secrets. _She can be dangerous._ So can you. _She deserves peace. _You don't.

None of this was an issue today, because today, Remy awoke alone, her hair spread wet on the snow and her knuckles pale from the cold. She sprang up and rubbed her hands together to warm herself up, then looked around.

Christmasy indeed. The Community Park had turned into a white snowy plain painted by Santa's elves in the North Pole onto the Earth's canvas, and Princeton itself in the distance looked like one of those children's toys that light up when you turn on the switch from afar. The image was greatly complemented by the cotton crowns of the trees, though sligthly disturbed by the fact that underneath were but needles and dead leaves, since snow barely passed through the floating duvet of treetops.

Thirteen spotted her partner a safe distance away, sheltered by the trees, and, taking in consideration the events of the day before, contemplated not following her; Allison might have wanted to be left alone. Then again, she might have wanted just the opposite. Remy approached the blonde and carefully placed a hand on her shoulder. "Allison?"

"Jesus!" Allison jumped, stumbled and almost fell over; Thirteen was fortunately quick enough to steady her. "Don't do this to me!" There was a short pause as the blonde's eyes darted from side to side in an attempt to locate her companion. "The snow doesn't crack when we walk on it," she whispered, a hint of sorrow sneaking through the cracks she hadn't embedded in concrete. Not only did the absense of sound remind her that it was the only way of her recognizing her partner; it was the only way of knowing they were alive, and it was lost.

"Oh," Thirteen muttered, not knowing what else to say. "Do you want me to leave you alone? I can respect that, you know."

Halfway through the first step, when no man would stop her, she was stopped by a single word. "No," Cameron replied. "We need to talk."

Ah crap, _the talk_. When in all the chronicles has _the talk _led to something pleasant? Did talking help Joan of Arc or John Huss? Like hell it did; they burned anyway. She and Cameron were not even close enough to have _the talk_, anyway! Or was Thirteen missing something? Personally, she was more of a fan of body language. With a deep sigh, she turned back to face Allison's eyes that so perfectly matched the surrounding background. None too enthusiastically, she spoke up. "Is this going to take long?"

"That depends."

"Uh-huh." Taking that as a yes, Thirteen made a small campfire burning with spirit fire among the leaves and ordered Cameron to sit down. "So what is it?"

"Why do you keep running away? Honestly, chasing you is a little too long a process for my liking."

"I'm right here," Thirteen said with fake confusion, hoping Allison would take the hint.

She didn't. "I mean running away from how you feel."

"I don't know how I feel and I don't _care_ how I feel. I know your motives."

The blonde sprang to attention, raising eyebrows at the other woman. "Is that so? Tell my about my _motives_ then, you who claim to know me so well."

Thirteen sighed and rubbed her temples, frustrated at the inevitable confrontation to come and thinking of a good way to phrase what she was about to say. "You don't _like_ me. It's your need to mend broken glass writing 'sad panda' all over me." Not too classy, but to the point.

Swiftly and with surprising precision – as if led by some mysterious sixth sense, or a 'Thirteen-dar' – Cameron managed to get from sitting beside Thirteen to straddling her with her knees buried in the needles, hands resting on Thirteen's shoulders. "Bullshit. Look at me."

"What are you trying to prove?" the brunette asked, positively puzzled. _Not saying it's not having a certain effect, whatever it is._

"My eyes don't need to be green for my true colors to show."

"You know I hate riddles, Cameron; moreover, I suck at solving them. Just tell me what you want me to say, what you want me to do." This woman's tactics were persistently getting on her nerves.

"Do you see love?"

Remy understood. This was a trial. Allison was trying to prove herself to her, not understanding that the point lied somewhere else. Or did it? The brunette took a deep breath, staring into the blank void which, seemingly forming a wall between her and Cameron's soul, was actually but a crystal clear window. Still, Remy was clueless. "If I did, I wouldn't be so scared, now would I?"

Disappointment showed in Allison's face as her head hung low. To her, Remy was a metronome; here and there she swung, but never crossed the line; a line behind which Cameron stood and waited.

Thirteen shook her head. "You don't get it. I don't see it because I have no idea what it looks like. I don't know what I'm looking for; I've never seen it before. You have and you can read me but I just don't know and the last thing I want to do is jump to conclusions." Hesitantly, she put her hands on Cameron's sides and pulled her sligthly closer, hoping that somehow cutting the distance would make her understand better, see the desperation behind those words, discover the truth. "You have some sort of built-in love-receptors that make you sensible to people's emotions and reactions but I just—I just don't know," she blurted out. "I can't tell what's real and what's just my imagination, and I don't want to be a charity case, and I don't want you to get stuck in this spiral with me and—"

To her immense shock, Allison's lips curved into a warm smile. She was _smiling_. How could she be _smiling_ while Thirteen was pouring her heart out to her here? Didn't she understand how hard this was for her? _God damn them women!_

"You're just like Adam."

Wait, who—what? What Adam? Thirteen didn't know any Adams, now did she? Nope, definitely none in the hospital staff—the biblical Adam? What did he have to do with anything? Brainstorm, woman—Oh god—But why would she—Cameron had been mar—

"Why does a girl always have to show you what she wants?"

There was only one way to end this lovely little conference. While Thirteen was stuck fumbling through the folders trying to unlock all the doors and find the right answers, she didn't realize Cameron was leaning in until her lips met Thirteen's.

Sure, Remy had had many, many pairs of lips kissing her own in her life, but no kiss had ever been as memorable as Allison's. It was tentative but not hesitant, forceful but not demanding, passionate but not lustful, a desire and a need, a necessity, a patient heir to the long-lasting chase, and now that Thirteen has experienced it, she thought all that emphasis on how oxygen was important for you was just small talk compared to this. It was meant as a symbol of endless devotion worth a thousand words. _I am yours. All you have to do—all you've ever had to do—is take me._

Now that she had tasted the forbidden fruit, Remy finally understood. Fighting this was a useless, contraproductive effort; all the times she had avoided Cameron in order to spare her the pain merely put more weight on her shoulders, and for what? Honor? Cameron had already decided and there was no changing her mind, being the stubborn nutcase she was. What is honor compared to a woman's love?

No more than ten seconds of feigned resistance, patience, luring the prey before Thirteen gently laid Allison on the ground and rolled on top of her. Expectations crackled in the fire, shining like fireflies in the dark.

Thirteen broke the kiss for long enough to say "I do."

"You do what?"

"Love you. I _do_ love you," the brunette whispered, surprised at her own words; the last words she had ever expected to come out of her mouth prior to meeting the other woman, who, though blind, could see clearly from the very beginning. It was just one of Cameron's many skills, and now Remy felt like a fool—a happy fool.

"I love you too," Cameron replied, smiling in return.

Upon capturing the older doctor's lips again, realization hit Thirteen like a particularly heavy anvil in the head. "Allison—we're in the woods."

"You know, you're not supposed to talk during these things," Cameron scolded her playfully and pulled her close.

_But you didn't mind a minute ago,_ the brunette thought, but didn't object; there were other things to focus on, such as how to cleverly sneak her hand into Cameron's jacket and under her shirt, which she managed quite well despite being continually distracted by the blonde's tongue exploring her mouth _thoroughly_. Allison moaned into the kiss when Thirteen's wandering hand traced lines on her bare stomach and then found the goal it was looking for, going over the soft mound and into Cameron's bra, caressing her breast.

Cameron had never had another woman this close to her, touching her in _those_ places, and for a moment it was unclear to her why she was nowhere near cold in this freezing temperature – before Remy forced her knee into Allison's center and said blonde was too busy whimpering for the tiny part of her mind that had had the time to think to keep functioning. Thirteen couldn't suppress an impish grin creeping onto her face at her lover's reactions as she followed a trail of kisses from the corner of Cameron's mouth along her jawline, down her neck and to her collarbone, leaving tingling goosebumps everywhere her lips touched the silken skin. The noises she was eliciting from the older woman alone were a reward beyond imagining, making warmth crawl in her nether regions.

Just as Remy's hand descended southward and was about to perform the disappearing trick in Cameron's lingerie, the other doctor gripped her wrist. "Wait," she pleaded breathlessly, suddenly filled with uncertainty.

Smiling to herself, Thirteen drew herself up. Of course, she should have remembered the First Time Syndrome. She had almost forgotten such a thing existed. Then again, being Cameron's first – and last, Remy swore to herself – brought a certain privilege and a rewarding responsibility she would gladly take on her shoulders. She had done this a thousand times to a thousand women, but back then, it was pure ferocity. Allison somehow managed to tame the lioness within her and Remy was only too happy to show her the extent of her newfound loyalty. "I don't bite… too hard," she assured the blonde, nibbling at her lower lip in order to illustrate the idea better before soothing the pain by placing a chaste kiss on it. "Just let it happen."

The tentative kiss that followed didn't seem much like an objection to Thirteen; much the opposite, and so she decided to interpret it as permission and took the plunge, delving deep into her body. Remy smiled to herself as she curled two fingers inside Cameron, who was already aroused enough for her, and watched her back arch with a satisfactory gleam in her eyes.

Then an evil, evil idea crossed her mind. With all the obviously intentional messing with Remy's head, surely Allison could handle a little teasing here and there for a change. "Harmless enough, or do you want me to stop?" she whispered into the blonde's ear. "Mmm? You seem a little short of breath all of a sudden. I wonder why that is," she added, tilting her head to the side and furrowing her brow as if she were a child lost in deep thought, and wiggling her fingers at the same time.

This earned a louder moan from Cameron, who recognized Thirteen's tactics but was too desperate to put up a fight at this point. Her breathing was quick and shallow and she thought Thirteen's mouth must have roamed every inch of her skin, never stopping at one place for too long, and the way she was ghosting her tongue along the blonde's neck made shivers run down her spine, and she squeezed the hand invading the private area between her legs. "Remy, please," were the only words currently forming in her mind.

_Good enough – for today_, the brunette thought and started pumping inside her lover. She quickly picked up the pace and captured Cameron's lips again hungrily, knowing that the other woman was close to coming. She longed to savor the scent and heat and gasps and devour her whole, and that was exactly what she did as she slammed her thumb onto Cameron's bundle of nerves, ready for the sound waves rippling in her throat, and the two melted into one.

Allison's whole world seemed to dissipate into spots of saturated color in an Impressionist's painting. Each of them was unique and mesmerizing, and then she crumbled under the full picture, where the colors merged into the wonder named Remy Hadley.

Remy waited patiently, half lying on half hovering above the older woman as Allison's breathing returned back to normal. "Earth to Allison," she whispered jokingly, brushing a stray strand of the blonde's hair off her face.

"Liar," the exhausted blonde responded after a while.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You _do_ bite hard, you know. You can only redeem yourself now if you kiss it to make it better," Cameron grinned slyly.

Of course she was joking – all the pain had been lost in pleasure. But why waste a perfectly good excuse to steal another kiss? Here and now, there could never be too many kisses. "Much obliged."

* * *

><p>"That was a nice trick you pulled back there."<p>

The blond boy didn't seem to hear any of those words as he sat in the archaic armchair, arms resting on its sides. His eyes were closed and his breathing slow and even as if he were asleep. A gentle lamb. Until he spoke up. "Thank you. As you can see, I find ways to keep my promises and get what I want at the same time. I've spent ages perfecting my skill of summoning illusions and manipulating matter, you see."

"I still don't understand why you did that, though. Isn't she a favorite of yours? Why make her complete the same mission twice?" the deep voice continued from above.

"And I don't understand why you have a problem with it. You want her Soul, don't you? There were two chances for her to fail. I was helping you."

Aaron's charcoal black rain glistened as the man stood above Joshua, leaning over the back of the armchair. "Yeah, you did that _solely_ because you care for my success. Please," he spat.

"I'm the Composer. My job is to make sure order is followed. In order to do that, I have to teach people, fill in the blanks they're missing. Miss Hadley had something to realize. Now, as they say, all is well in the UG," the boy replied, his posture still like a stone monument and his voice calm like the sea at night.

"It's a shame your efforts will be in vain," the other man said, wearing an expression of disdain as he took a few steps around Joshua, running a finger along the bonds that were tying the Composer's wrists to his throne. "Only two days to go," he whispered in Joshua's ear.

The boy's lips curved into a sly grin and his eyes opened, revealing that impish spark as he awakened from trance. "There's no mission today. You're losing another fight as we speak."

"And I don't see why you have a problem with that," the Game Master answered, imitating his superior's earlier response. "It's much more fun to settle _administrative business_ here with you. With you completely out of the picture for the next two days, there's no way they can survive."

"Wrong again." Joshua's tingling laugh lit up the Dead God's Pad.

Aaron's eyes widened in disbelief. He drew himself up, his coat rustling in the motion. "How can you still have faith in them after all this?"

"The real question is, how could I _not_ have faith in them after all this? Dear Aaron, you fail to comprehend that from today on, there is a force greater than you _and_ greater than me in play. They've summoned the only one I cannot command or shun; he disobeys the rules of the UG and substitutes his own. To your misfortune, he's on our side. That, too, is a lesson you must learn."

The man scoffed and his voice was ice-sharp as ever. "Nonsense. No one here has seen the Producer in centuries. Your agenda is over."

Joshua smiled. "You'll see when the time comes… For now, do what you will."

Red pins with an orange flame symbol drawn on it jingled in the Game Master's hands. "Rest assured, I will," he said bitterly, once again unknowingly quoting his past self from six days prior.

* * *

><p>"Remy?"<p>

"Mmmh?" murmured the addressed woman into the blonde's hair, hugging her from behind as they lied together, staring into the neon blue flames. The warmth they produced didn't seem right; blue was the color of cold and winter. It was unnatural, but perfect either way.

"Still nothing?" Allison asked, referring to the fact that they hadn't received a mission to complete today.

"Yeah, the way you were moaning could wake the dead, but I'm still pretty sure I would have noticed Dirty Little Secret playing on my phone," Thirteen teased.

Cameron slapped her arm playfully. "Ass," she muttered.

"At your service," Remy responded, a little disappointed that Allison couldn't see the grin from hell forming on her face. "Don't worry, I was kidding! Dirty Little Secret isn't my incoming message ringtone, dummy."

"Oh come on. That's not even funny."

"Then why are you smiling?" Remy replied, hunching over her partner to catch a glimpse of her pretty face. "It's actually a segment of Dancing Queen I got from Wilson. Come to think of it, he is so gay," Thirteen said with a frown.

Cameron propped herself up on her elbows, deciding to ignore the subject. "I'm serious. This has never happened before. Not that I'm not glad it happened, just… What does it mean? Is this their idea of vacation?"

"Calm down, Allison. We did nothing wrong. If that's the way it is, then just relax and go with the flow." _Here's how we do that,_ Thirteen thought and pulled Allison into a passionate kiss. She could get used to this almost too quickly. Not that that was a bad thing.

"It's kind of hard to resist when you put it like that," the blonde said after she had successfully regained her ability to breathe.

"It's what I'm here for."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Posthumous Note:<strong> So. Much. Fluff. My eyes. What have I created. Oh lord. I think this fic is making me sick, and I'm the one who wrote it. That's just sad.


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